'Put it away for christ sake', I say as I watch a channel four documentary cleverly named 40 year Old Virgins. It documents a 45-year-old man and a 30-something Irish lass desperate to lose the big V. As I am a huge fan of weird and a huge fan of documentaries, I was oddly hooked.
In today's highly sexualised society it's easy to assume we're all comfortable talking about sex. I'm far from prude but there are things I want to see on TV and there are things I'd rather delete from my brain and this channel four documentary is one of them. Are we becoming a nation of over-sharing and where does it end?
It opens with lots of hands and clothed breasts and the odd naked buttock shot so it pretty much led us into this journey of no escape from the word go. You don't want to watch it but you can not withdraw your eyes from the screen.
Apparently, this is news to me, there are sex therapists in America called surrogates who prepare you for the big moment, right ok. So a lot of talking about likes, dislikes, turn ons and turn offs? Nope, think again.
We join Clive Dancey, pictured above, on his travels with his few sexual relations on his CV to America to meet his surrogate sex partner, Cheryl. Cheryl is an elderly woman, twenty years Clive's junior. She can boast a massive 850 sexual escapades and a part-time husband who is very understanding about her work, ahem. Within minutes the pair were sucking fingers and stroking hands, legs wrapped around legs before they'd even have time to introduce each (I might be exaggerating a tiny bit here, but you get the picture).
Irish virgin was a bit mean to her surrogate, constantly telling him he smelt like ham and that he had a sweaty face. Safe to say her trip wasn't as successful as Clive's. His training included naked spooning, yes I saw an old ladies downstairs and I wish I hadn't, dry humping and lot's of weird sensual massages which as lovely as they aren't something you wish to receive from your Nan.
I'd expect a subtle door shut as the big moment arrives; an awkward camera-man and crew waiting outside but no hapless Dancey is successful. Cheryl clambers on top of him and wahey, bingo. We see it all. All ten awkward seconds of it. Sat open mouthed yet eyes still glued to the screen I began to wonder; why would you want to share this moment with a) a stranger who couldn't make one session because she was collecting her pension (jokes) and b) the whole frigging nation!?
I think they are the same sorts of people who will show their warty arse to Dr. Christian or lumpy tits to Dr. Pixie of Embarrassing Bodies. Yes, I'm so mortified by my condition but sure I'll pull my kecks down in front of you and this camera crew and let you have a fiddle. It's not normal.
The same can be said for Secret Eaters and other fat/skinny based programes, a lot of which I disagree should be on TV but I believe there are under-lying mental issues with eating disorders and they don't need millions of people pointing the finger and laughing at them yet I still watch them as do you because we find a tiny bit of joy from the fact we aren't them. This isn't our life, those aren't our flaws being picked out by a pompous prat and more importantly those aren't our tits being fondled by Dr Is-he really-a-doctor Christian Jessen.
If you put it out there, we as the laid-back yet moan about everything nation we are will watch it and the probably complain about it on their blog.
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